The context of my life at the moment is learning how to be by myself.  My friends call it the time for self discovery.  Part of this process for me has involved covering my body with tattoos.  I've had tattoos for the last 10 years of my life, but the past 2 years have involved adding tattoos that have buddhist meaning and are reminiscent of stories my grandmother told me.  Recently, my friend got a huge monkey's head tattooed on his chest.  I refer to it as his power animal similar to the scene in Fight Club, where Ed Norton confronts his power animal which is a penguin. 

Thinking about and watching this movie last night got me pondering what the hell my power animal would be.  As the title of this hub suggests, it is sadly a Panda.  I am an endangered species because I am the proverbial "nice guy who always finishes last."  Past girlfriends and my soon to be ex-wife claim that I am overly sensitive and thoughtful to a fault.  The word clingy is never used, but from their delivery of this information, I infer that when they look at me, a prevalent image of masculinity is not the first thing that pops into their mind.  It's really kinda sad because I always hear women wanting a considerate and old skool gentleman, but no one is ever knocking down my door.  The new cool these days is "creme' de la douchebag" which in my definition is part metrosexual, with a twist of chauvinistic bad ass thrown in.  In that sense, my effeminate ass is part of a dying breed.

Pandas are also on the endangered species list because they are so hard to breed.  This translates into my life as, "no one wants to have sex with me."  The past 20 months of my soon to be ending marriage have been sexless.  The only signs of affection thrown at me by the opposite sex is when my female friends flip me the bird and repeat the famous line from Talladega Nights of how they got that shit at Target.  There is a sense of empathy I can relate to because I realize that my look, my demeanor aren't everybody's ideal view of sexy.  But empathy only goes so far.  The result is the reversion to learning how to be happy with myself and learning to enjoy the sensation of being alone.  I also own stock in KY and hope they pay dividends by sending out their shareholders samples of new massage touch oils. 

Pandas by nature are non threatening animals.  You don't see Jeff Corwin on the Animal Planet channel cowering in fear in the mountains of China, fearing that he might be mauled by ravenous packs of Panda.  My demeanor is not one that contains any semblance of aggression or the attributes associated with the alpha male; maybe more of a delta or epsilon.  I'm loke a social ninja that blends in with his surroundings provided that the walls are an earthy yellow that is common amongst my people.  Similar to the Panda and it's non aggressive nature, I would rather spend my time hanging out eating, drinking, and laughing my ass off. 

I yearn to know what it feels like to be desired.  Damn it, I want to be told my yellow ass is sexy.  The best I've come across in my 31 years as an inhabitant of earth is "cute."  Much like the panda.  Pandas are not regal creatures and the adjective of majestic has never entered any literary work when describing these animals.  The same can be said of myself.  The only redeeming element of this argument is that the majority of asian men can be clumped into this category.  It's an experience that we share.  You can call it the hazing that our somewhat sub par fraternity has all had the pleasure/displeasure of going through.  Countless is the word I use to describe how often I dreamed of the cheerleaders in the high school squad taking an interest in me sexually.  Never happened and it's still a sore point to some degree. 

But to some degree, there is something that is desirable in the somewhat solitary nature of pandas.  Pandas are the equivalent of guys who get taken care of by "sugar mommas" in the human world.  Is that such a bad thing?  After my schooling in the ways of divorce, if a sugar momma wants to help facilitate my existence in society, you won't hear me complaining.  There is a simplicity that these animals enjoy that allows them to appreciate waht makes everyday life possible.  In the end, is it really the momentous experiences in life that make up the meaning of life, or the everyday miracles that we take for granted that make it special?  I prefer to place faith in the latter.